Dating : Today was one of those days.

Today was one of those days. I woke up. Semi hungover. I ate a yogurt just because I couldn’t face anything else. I showered. Conditioned. Preened. Put make up on (for me I convince myself). I take anti histamines – I’ve never had hay fever until two days ago – who knew?. I dress how I want to be seen. No one dresses me. Today is the day I have two underwhelming dates in one day.

Date one: he’s a 40 something, successful older man. An ex artist and now he designs dream homes for people with ridiculous amounts of money. He’s late. Later than I am and I’m always late. He arrives. I buy a coffee for us both – I take control. If women want to be taken seriously in this world we pay our own way. Even if that means we are broke by the end of the month. It means I have taken the power surely? We chat. We bump into a friend I work with. She’s the best part of the date. The two minute chat we engage in. He offers me ice cream. I decline. I’m already plotting my escape. We look like father daughter. I see people looking at his chinos and fleece. His aged eyes. He looks like a grown up. I have a nose ring and red hair. I look like a young girl with puffy eyes – perhaps from partying, perhaps from hay fever. We part ways after discussing a lot of inane topics. He’s nice but I don’t want to rip his fleece off. No thank you.

Date two: date two is one of those scenarios where you talk briefly then a date is arranged – mainly so you can pretend you’re not on a dating app. I walk into a pub – luckily my friend used to live opposite so I know it. I awkwardly look around. I see a man with his back to me. It can only be him. There is no one else who is not in a couple or female. I walk over. His pictures were taken at least 10 years beforehand. He has grey hair and is wearing a stained t shirt. I hug him hello and instant regret. He smells unkept too. I go to the bar and contemplate walking out. But I’m not cruel. I purchase a drink. He comes in just as I’ve paid and says we should order a roast. Hungover. Hungry. I agree. He goes to pay. I decline, we go Dutch I say. I already know I will not be seeing this man again – why pretend? We sit and make small talk. Or should I say he does. He talks over me. He asks no questions. It’s all about him. Our roast arrives. I eat silently staring intently at my plate. If I look at him I will be put off my food. I can hear his mouth opening and chomping. I focus on my plate. After dinner we both make our excuses. He says he needs to sleep. I say I need to do life admin. We part.

The conclusion. Two dates in one day? They can both be just as awful as each other.